


its almost too much for my soul alone

by enterpoIaris



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: I love they, Other, Skam France - Freeform, gay lesbian solidarity, manons a lesbian no i don't accept criticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 20:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17946956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enterpoIaris/pseuds/enterpoIaris
Summary: Manon's there, right now; a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with such genuine concern and kindness, he says it before he can think further.“You remember that guy, Eliott?”





	its almost too much for my soul alone

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all this clip broke me and im sad but here's lucas and manon being brother and sister for 800 words straight

 

 

Lucas catches Manon's figure with the corner of his eye. He sits up straight, watches her drag her socked feet on the floor towards him. He moves closer to the armrest, even if there's enough space for the both of them already, not knowing what to do.

“Did I wake you up?” He asks. Manon shakes her head, dragging the sleeves down over her hands. Lucas pats the spot next to him, “Come here.”

Manon pushes the blanket away and sits down, feet hidden under her bum, then leans over to grab it back and drape it over them once again. She keeps her gaze fixed on the TV, some boring movie Lucas stopped on when he got tired of looking for something worth his time playing for them. He doesn't mean to, but he stares, because although the light is dim and it's late, he can still see Manon's glossed eyes.

“Hey…” he murmurs, not sure if loud enough for her to hear. She blinks rapidly, purses her lips— tears stream down her cheeks nonetheless.

“Lucas.” She says. He's never seen her like this; never heard her voice break the way it does then.

She cares, but doesn't push. She stills looks guilty every time Lucas starts getting settled on the sofa to sleep. _I'm sorry_ , her eyes speak. _It's fine_ , Lucas tries to tell her each time, with a small smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. Now, she says his name and it sounds like it takes all of the strength left within her to push it out of her lips.

“We don't have to talk about it.” He assures. He cares, but he doesn't want to push. Lucas knows sometimes silence in company is better. Manon nods, hugging herself and swallowing down words that'd probably hurt to speak right now.

He wraps an arm around her and softly guides her to his chest. Manon goes without saying anything, soft sobs mixed with the dialogue from the TV. She curls by his side, hands under her face— probably to not wet his shirt. And it'd be such a Manon _thing_ to do, to care more about a stupid tear touching his clothes, he wouldn't think it impossible.

Lucas stares front. He doesn't understand the plot of the movie anymore. He doesn't understand so many things lately— when did it all become… _this_ ? When did it all start hurting so much? His eyes sting; hasn't been able to get a good night of sleep for a while. His mind keeps reminding him of things that would be better forgotten (making Mika feel bad, _we're going too fast_ , that stupid party and Eliott's stupid lips on Lucille's, Arthur opening his mouth and his hands on his shoulders, pushing and pushing; his bleeding fist and pathetic hopes shattering in one go); a hammer inside his head hitting painful memories once in a while, making sure he _doesn't forget_.

Manon shifts, looks up at him. She dries her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffs, “I didn't mean to make you feel sad, too.”

Lucas doesn't understand, until a small breeze comes through the window and hits the trail of tears on his own cheeks, making him shiver. Was he so numb he couldn't even feel his own cry?

“I'm okay.” He says, “It's fine.”

Manon doesn't look convinced. Her eyes are puffy, her mind probably still hung up on whatever made her cry and come to him at this hour, but she manages to _worry_ . About _him_. His friends probably hate him, Chloé would spit on him given the opportunity— but Manon's there, right now; a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with such genuine concern and kindness, he says it before he can think further.

“You remember that guy, Eliott?”

Manon looks surprised for a second, “Yeah. Yeah, I do. What about him?”

His vision gets blurry. He shuts his eyes closed, “There was something going on, between he and I. Something… you know.”

Nothing changes, like he fears it will every time he says it out loud. The world continues with its usual routine. The TV is still playing that awful movie. Mika is sleeping soundly in his room.

Manon is still by his side.

“Was?” She asks softly, as if she were afraid to scare him.

Lucas sighs but is stopped mid-way by a sob, and the tears spill, and he's trying— he's _really_ trying— to not let Manon see. She wraps her arms around him and pulls him close, persisting even when he weakly tries to get away. She holds him tight, rocks them back and forth like a big sister would after her little brother comes to her with a scratched knee.

She whispers in his ear, voice wavering slightly “We don't have to talk about it.”

Lucas chuckles and Manon joins him. They separate, take a look at each other's faces and laugh some more. It's gross and it's messy but Manon opens up her arms and this time she guides Lucas’ head to rest on her and, although both are still hurting deep down, the knowledge of not being alone and having a friend is enough for the night.


End file.
